


Lock Up

by liviwrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:52:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3538634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liviwrites/pseuds/liviwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is there a way to be so wrong for one another that it's right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lock Up

Her red hair was pulled tightly in a ponytail, and her ponytail was stuffed carefully under a black hood. She was panting hard and her cheeks were bright red. She tightened the straps of her backpack and continued running, the red and blue lights flashing too close behind her for comfort. Left at the next ally, another left after that, two rights, up the fire escape then into Jackson’s apartment. She could do it. She pumped her arms faster, made her legs carry her further with each step. She readjusted the backpack again, then turned around to look for the flashing lights. No red and blue. Just as she was about to turn back around, her body slammed into something both hard and soft and crashed to the ground. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? You were running pretty fast. Um, here, let me help you up.” Big hands grabbed her biceps and helped her to her feet. She kept her eyes turned down. 

“I’m really sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?” The boy asked. She nodded. Her hood slid off and she looked up at him, shocked. He had brown hair, spiked a little at the front like most boys were doing these days. He was the opposite of Jackson, though. Where he was all cocky smiles and arrogant winks, this boy was awkward giggles and shy grins.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine,” she said, tightening her ponytail and pulling her hood back over it.

“I’m Stiles, by the way. Do you, uh, maybe want to run into me some other time?” He stuttered. She withheld a scoff. 

“I really have to go.” She moved around him to continue on her way to Jackson’s apartment. She picked up her speed to a jog. 

“Whats your name?” He yelled to her.

“Something.” 

“I’ll see you around, then.”

“Probably not,” she called behind her as she increased her speed again to a sprint. One more right. As she turned into the last ally, her mouth turned up into a grin. She let out a quiet whoop as she scampered up the fire escape to Jackson’s apartment. She entered through the open window, letting out her laughter. 

“This was the easiest it’s ever been,” she said, throwing the heavy backpack onto Jackson’s leather couch. 

“Hey be careful! That’s fragile, and the couch is brand new.” 

“Well, it looks great.” She let herself fall onto the couch. Now that her adrenaline wasn’t pumping, she was tired. 

“Did you take the picture like I asked?” Jackson asked, moving to sit on the couch next to her. 

“Of course.” She pulled the picture out of the backpack and tossed it to him. The spray paint image was the same as it always was, no words or symbols, just a tree. Lydia had designed the tree a couple years earlier and when Jackson had seen it, he’d know it was theirs. A logo of sorts. Lydia marked any place she stole from with the tree. 

Jackson pulled the backpack onto his lap and pulled out the contents: Lydia’s iPhone, which he tossed to her, a golden vase, $2,000 in cash, and a handful of incredibly expensive jewelry Lydia had taken on a whim from the upstairs master bedroom. Jackson looked over and glared at her, making her look down and away. She’d known he would be angry, but she thought he might go easy on her because she’d done so well this time. 

“I told you not to get sidetracked again.” Jackson’s voice was eerily calm. 

“Sorry,” she muttered. Her hands fidgeted in her lap. 

“Lydia, we’re going to get caught if you keep being so careless. Don’t you like living like this? Don’t you want to stay here,” Jackson traced her neck with his calloused fingers, and Lydia shivered. “With me?” Lydia sighed as his nails made their way down her back, tracing the contours of her bones and muscles lightly. 

“Yes,” she choked out. Jackson pulled her towards him and their lips met for a brief moment. 

“Now tell me exactly what happened.” Lydia recounted the story of the night to Jackson, omitting the scene of her running into the boy in the street. _Stiles,_ she thought, _what an odd name._ Lydia shook her head, and with it went the memory of the shy boy.  “And then I showed up here.” She shrugged, stretching out further on the couch.

“Keep your feet of the leather, Lydia.” Lydia rolled her eyes and slid her feet off the side of the couch, letting them dangle right above the floor. Lydia glanced at the clock over the stove. 12:23. _What was Stiles doing out after 11 in the first place?_ She wondered. _Maybe he steals, too. Maybe he’s like me. Just trying to stay on top._ But Stiles didn’t seem like someone who would willingly hurt another person. Lydia shook him out of her mind again. _He doesn’t even remember me._

“Good job tonight, babe. Let’s go to bed, we’ll plan next week’s job in the morning.” Lydia nodded as Jackson pulled her off the couch and led her into the bedroom. _What am I doing?_

 

Stiles stood in the hot water of the shower for a long time that night. Scott banged on the door three times before he finally turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered, pushing past Scott into his room. Stiles dried off quickly and slid on pajamas. He sauntered out to the kitchen, hoping Scott would be out there and ready to talk. Instead, he found Isaac spitting toothpaste into the sink. 

“Scott wouldn’t come out of the bathroom,” Isaac said as Stiles walked up behind him. Stiles scoffed and jumped to sit on the counter. 

“Look, Stiles. I get it. Malia broke up with you, and you’re literally falling to pieces. But you need to get your shit together. It’s been months, and you still just sit in your room and sigh all day. It’s pathetic and I don’t want to deal with it anymore. Malia is not the only female out there. She was great sure, but she’s not the only one.” Isaac rinsed his toothbrush and left the kitchen without saying another word. 

“Well, I think I met someone. So, ha!” Stiles called after him. Isaac turned around. 

“Did she actually acknowledge you?”

“Well, no. But, she was just afraid of our natural chemistry.” Stiles winced at his explanation. Isaac scoffed and closed the door to his room. The door to the bathroom opened and Scott walked out, shaking the water out of his hair. 

“What’s up?”

“I ran into a girl today. Literally. She bumped into me while I was taking out the trash. ”

“Okay. Do you know her name?”

“No.”

“Phone number?”

“No.” 

“Stiles…”

“I know.” Scott shook his head and turned into his room. Stiles sighed and retired for the night. 

 

 

 


End file.
